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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690082">A Hundred Sodden, Crumpled Up, Earmarked Pages</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marina_15/pseuds/Marina_15'>Marina_15</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Disco Elysium (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol references, Chapter topics will vary, Developing Relationships, Drabble Collection, Food, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Multi, POV Harry du Bois, Second Person, Smoking references, some strong language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marina_15/pseuds/Marina_15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>100 Disco Elysium drabbles of exactly 100 words each.</p><p>Tags will be updated as I add chapters, but none of the major archive warnings will apply.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Du Bois/Jean Vicquemare, Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi, Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare, Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. "I'm not really sure about this turn of events."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You stare mournfully into the bathroom mirror, prodding the flesh of your cheeks as if to reshape them.</p><p>“Kim, you were right. I shouldn’t have shaved.”</p><p>Kim looks up from the sink. “When did I say that?”</p><p>“In Martinaise. You told me that shaving made me look ugly.”</p><p>“I never—that’s not what I meant.” Kim is flustered. A rare sight.</p><p>Chester McLaine cackles from inside a stall. “That’s hilarious. As if the mutton chops make a difference!”</p><p>“Fuck off, McLaine!” you shout, then turn to Kim. “Sorry about that.”</p><p>Kim shakes his head. “No, I agree. Fuck off, McLaine.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "Motor carriage, motor carriage... Something bad with a motor carriage."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“For my next motor carriage, they should get me one with two front seats,” you say, propping your feet up on the desk. “Like Jean's. I’m tired of sitting in the back while Kim drives. It feels like I’m being arrested.”</p><p>Jean stops pouring coffee and gapes at you, the carafe suspended in midair. On the other side of the room, Kim covers his face with a hand.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” you ask. “What did I say?”</p><p>“Your <em>next</em> motor carriage?” Jean echoes. “There won’t be a next MC for you, shitkid. You’ll be lucky if they issue you a bicycle.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. "Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Everyone is being weird today,” you say under your breath, hovering near Kim’s desk.</p>
<p>“Weird how?” Kim doesn’t bother looking up from his notebook.</p>
<p>“They’re being too nice. People are <em>smiling</em> at me.”</p>
<p>Kim snorts. “Smiling? The audacity.”</p>
<p>“Harry, come here!” Judit calls from her desk. She smiles warmly when you approach and hands you a plastic container. “Happy birthday, Harry.”</p>
<p>You peer inside the container. Judit has filled it with neat rows of cupcakes.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Your eyes prickle.</p>
<p>Judit frowns. “Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Judit.” You wipe your face. “I just… I didn’t remember that today was my birthday.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "Make the people jealous of your premium lifestyle."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bar’s lights are dim and hazy, the air stuffy with smoke. The bartender hands you a bubbling glass of club soda with a lime wedge garnish.</p><p>Jean and Kim sit at a booth opposite Sundance Fischer. The three are chatting amiably, though you can’t hear what they’re saying. Jean’s arm is slung casually over the top of the seat, grazing Kim’s shoulders. Kim says something and they all laugh.</p><p>You swallow a lump in your throat.</p><p>Seeing them get along should make you happy.</p><p>Still, you can’t help feeling like they’re comparing notes on what a shithead you are.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. "None of us have glowing lungs."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of the few things you remember from your past life, her phone number is the most dangerous.</p><p>You cried to her through a payphone in Martinaise and promised you’d never call again. Now, you’re holding your phone and staring at the number pad, fingers itching.</p><p>You dial and wait.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Kim?”</p><p>“Harry? Are you okay?”</p><p>“I just wanted to talk. Is that okay? I know it’s late.”</p><p>“Sure.” A pause. “Harry, you know you can call me any time, right?”</p><p>You know this, but you’re haunted by the image of yourself a decade older, crying to Kim through a payphone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "Go jogging with him in the morning and get him on carrot juice?!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentioning to be safe: Harry accidentally makes a suggestive comment about a coworker (Jean).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Harry, why do you and Kitsuragi smell like a locker room?” Jean asks when you enter the station.</p><p>“We’ve started jogging before work.” You wipe your sweaty forehead. “You know. For exercise.”</p><p>“You should join us sometime,” Kim offers. He’s still breathing hard, hands on his hips.</p><p>You scoff. “Jean doesn’t need to run with us. Can’t you tell how much he works out?”</p><p>Kim makes a strangled sound that he tries to pass off as a cough. Jean turns scarlet and walks away without a goodbye.</p><p>You grimace. “That’s… something I shouldn’t say to coworkers?”</p><p>Kim sighs. “Probably not.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. “98.7% pure flammable polyester.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jean glances up from his clipboard, looks back down, then looks at you again.</p>
<p>"You’re wearing your uniform.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” you say, as if surprised to find you’re wearing anything. “I am.”</p>
<p>“Why?” he asks. “Did you turn the rest of your clothes into improvised explosives?”</p>
<p>“Who told you about that?”</p>
<p>“You did, Harry. Several times.”</p>
<p>“Oh. No, I’m just seeing how the uniform feels.”</p>
<p>Jean mutters something and returns his attention to his papers.</p>
<p>“What was that?”</p>
<p>With how hard Jean is writing, you’re surprised he doesn’t break his pencil.</p>
<p>“I said it looks good,” he says through clenched teeth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. “GET INTO GEAR, DROP THE MOTHERFUCKING CLUTCH.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You poke your head into the front seat of the Kineema. “Can we listen to Speedfreaks?”</p>
<p>“What? No. I never should have let you touch the radio.”</p>
<p>“I’m not making fun of you. I <em>want</em> to listen to it.”</p>
<p>Kim turns to face you and cocks an eyebrow. “You like that type of music?”</p>
<p>“Not really,” you say. “But you like it, don’t you? It makes you happy?”</p>
<p>“Sure, you could say that.”</p>
<p>“Then how could we <em>not</em> listen to it?”</p>
<p>“Have it your way, Detective.” Kim reaches for the radio.</p>
<p>Despite his disgruntled tone, you can tell he’s pleased.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. “The world turns as fast as it wants.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Would you rather repeat one day of your life every day for a hundred years or wake up tomorrow as a newborn baby and live your entire life over again?”</p>
<p>Kim sets down his fork and gazes at the ceiling of the restaurant thoughtfully. “For the second option, would I remember my life?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. You’d have all your memories. You’d just be a baby.”</p>
<p>“Okay. And for the first option, could I pick the day I’d be reliving?”</p>
<p>“Hmm. Would that make a difference?”</p>
<p>“A huge difference.”</p>
<p>“What if it were today?”</p>
<p>Kim smiles. “That wouldn’t be so bad, then.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. “Actually, now that I hear superstar and law official in a sentence they sound weird together.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The teenagers stare at you in surly defiance.</p>
<p>“Look,” you say. “It may seem like drugs are cool. But you know what’s actually cool? Reading. Reading is cool.”</p>
<p>Kim’s hands twitch behind his back.</p>
<p>“And Karaoke. Karaoke is cool.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you, pig,” says a kid.</p>
<p>“Okay, fuck it,” you say. “Let me tell you something. I used to do drugs. So many drugs. And they <em>are</em> fucking cool. But guess what happens when you do drugs?” You gesture up and down your body. “You turn into this.”</p>
<p>“A washed-up disco cop?”</p>
<p>“Yes!” you exclaim. “And the bell bottoms are <em>mandatory</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. "Sounds like the end of a long dice roll."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Let’s invite people over to play board games sometime.”</p><p>Kim snorts loudly and drops the dice. They scatter across the carpet.</p><p>“What?” you ask, startled.</p><p>“It’s just a funny coincidence,” Kim says. “Because this is <em>my</em> apartment. And you’re suggesting that <em>we </em>have people over.”</p><p>“So, you’re laughing because… I was rude?”</p><p>Losing your memories has left you lacking in the manners department, although you’re not sure you ever had them to begin with.</p><p>“No.” Kim’s soft smile melts you. “What’s funny is that you say that the same night I planned to ask you to move in with me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. "Neon signs with toothpaste ads."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I never knew there were so many flavors of mint,” you say, surveying the shelf of toothpaste tubes. “Spearmint, peppermint… Kim, there’s even <em>orange</em> mint. Who would want that? Eating oranges after brushing your teeth is horrible.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Kim examines a shampoo bottle. “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re brushing your teeth. I’m sure any flavor will be fine.”</p><p>“What if it’s not? What if it tastes terrible?” You wave a tube of toothpaste at him. “Don’t forget that you’ll be tasting it, too, after I use it.”</p><p>Kim’s head snaps up. <em>“Harry.”</em></p><p>You grin. “All right, I’ll get the spearmint.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. "Would obscure titbits and odd trivia fit the fields?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean we can’t play?” Jean demands.</p>
<p>“They think we’ve been cheating,” Judit says. “Pub trivia isn’t fun for the other teams when we get every question right.”</p>
<p>“That’s not fair. We can’t help having Trant and Harry on our team.”</p>
<p>“We could give the wrong answers?” you suggest.</p>
<p>Jean glares at you. “Not a chance. We came here for trivia and we’re going to play fucking trivia.”</p>
<p>He gets up from the table and returns minutes later looking murderous.</p>
<p>“Get your coats. We’ll go somewhere where they respect your intelligence.”</p>
<p>“Jean,” you coo. “You think I’m intelligent?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. “Do you strike yourself as a family man?”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: References to death (not directly described in the chapter)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You lay the bouquet of forget-me-nots at the foot of the gravestone.</p><p>“Ironic choice of flowers, I guess.” Your voice cracks.</p><p>Kim rests a steadying hand on your shoulder.</p><p>“Do you think they loved me?”</p><p>A warm breeze flutters through your hair. Sun seems unsuited to a cemetery. You expected rain.</p><p>“I’ve often wondered the same about my parents.” Kim goes quiet before he realizes you’re looking for a different response. “Yes. I’m sure they loved you.”</p><p>Your memory is a gaping hole. Maybe one day you’ll be strong enough to dive into it and see if Kim is right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. "They have a battle-tested relationship."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, Jean, are we really ‘heterosexual life partners?’ And if we are, what exactly does that entail?”</p><p>“Who the fuck told you that?”</p><p>“Torson and McLaine.”</p><p>“I thought so. Next time they bother you, tell them to fuck off.”</p><p>“So… Is that the type of advice a heterosexual life partner would give?”</p><p>“God damn it, Harry. I’m not your partner <em>anything</em> anymore, okay? I’m just giving you <em>regular</em> advice.”</p><p>“Fine. Anyway, I told them I wasn’t heterosexual, so maybe they’ll stop bringing it up.”</p><p>“Yes, Harry, we’ve all heard the exciting news by now. Just... please get back to work.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. "I miss someone but I don’t know who it is."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You don't set out to eavesdrop, but Jean and Kim should know better than to talk about you when you step away from the table. Hearing your name, you linger at the bathroom door and listen.</p><p>“You don’t get it,” Jean says. “The problem isn’t that Harry was a fucking bastard. The problem is that I <em>miss</em> that bastard. It’s like he died and someone else took his place.”</p><p>Kim spots you, his eyes meeting yours, but he gives no indication to Jean. “I think you’ll find that the things you miss about Harry are still there. They’re just… rearranged.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. "What's that? A union for clairvoyants?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have a very important, very serious question for you.”</p>
<p>Jean looks up at you wearily. “What is it?”</p>
<p>“Would you rather learn how to turn invisible…” You pause dramatically. “…or read minds?”</p>
<p>“These stupid fucking questions again? Get out of here, Harry. This is a workplace.”</p>
<p>You’re turning to head back to your desk when Jean stops you.</p>
<p>“Harry, wait…” He’s embarrassed. “If you’re still curious, I think I’d pick the mind reading option.”</p>
<p>“Interesting.” You nod sagely. “Not what I expected.”</p>
<p>Jean scowls. “If I could read <em>your</em> mind, shitkid, my life would be a thousand times easier."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. "Like laughter. A sort of happiness."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’re lying on the couch. Your head rests on Kim’s lap. He’s flipping through a magazine, every so often reaching down to stroke your hair. The apartment is warm. An electric fan hums from the next room.</p><p>Your sob comes out of nowhere, a horrible, gasping sound. Kim drops the magazine and looks down at you in alarm.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” you say, choking back tears. “It’s just… too good.”</p><p>“What’s too good?”</p><p>You sniff, hoping you don’t get snot on Kim’s lap. “Everything.”</p><p>“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I think I know what you mean.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. "If the most beautiful being in the world can love him…"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do I cry too much?”</p><p>Kim faces the stove, flipping eggs on a pan. He straightens his back, thinking, before he responds: “There’s no recommended amount for how much someone should cry.”</p><p>“But look at you. You never cry.”</p><p>Kim turns, crossing his arms. “Do you feel like I’m someone you need to emulate?”</p><p>“I mean, you <em>are</em> the coolest person I know.”</p><p>A slight smile graces his face. “And you, Harry, are the coolest person <em>I</em> know. Tears and all.”</p><p>You laugh. “You’re lying. I’m not cool anymore.”</p><p>“You dare question the judgment of the coolest person you know?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. “Tell me how I might make it up to you?”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“For most of us, life is hard. That’s what you don’t get, Harry.”</p><p>“You don’t think that my life has been hard? You’re really saying that to me?”</p><p>“You’re different. You <em>make</em> your life hard. You go around destroying it without a care in the fucking world, then act so surprised when you look at the damage.”</p><p>“I care about things. You know, they say that the things we care about the most are the things we destroy. Or, uh, whatever.”</p><p>“I’m really fucking flattered then, Harry. I feel really <em>cared</em> for.”</p><p>“Jean—”</p><p>“Get the fuck out of my sight.”</p>
  </div></div>
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